


Like Fine, Soft Kohl

by Bagheeraa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carnival AU, F/M, Makeup, as in makeup application to Derek's face, by Kali
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagheeraa/pseuds/Bagheeraa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek thinks that swallowing fire is as much "pop" as his act needs. Luckily, he has Kali to set him straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Fine, Soft Kohl

Excitement crackles in the air of the green room as dancers do one last makeup check, acrobats don their backup harnesses, and the lone magician re-tapes his hat for what has to be the third time this week. There’s no doubt that a show is about to begin but looking at Derek, you’d never know it.

Derek will be the first to tell you that he internalizes quite a bit -if he was the confessing type that is- and five minutes to showtime does nothing to change that. While his co-stars bustle around him, he sits in Boyd’s abandoned makeup chair, running through his routine in his head and looking at his reflection contemplatively, wondering what can be added to make his get-up  _pop_ as his ring master had so kindly advised.

So far, Derek was content to stick with simply swallowing fire. That was more than enough pop for anyone, he thought.

Abrupt pressure between his eyebrows draws Derek back into the present, and he swats ineffectively at a grinning Kali, who pulls her arm back just in time.

"You look about ready to blow a gasket," she says in greeting. "I thought we agreed that you should leave thinking to someone less pretty."

"And I thought we agreed that you should leave conversation for someone less abrasive," he snaps back. Kali merely grins; she takes all attempted attacks about her personality as positives, and most people aren’t sure whether it’s shamelessness or confidence that keeps her going. Derek -though he wouldn’t admit it even under penalty of death- appreciates that about her.

"I’m a stunning conversationalist. In that I make conversation, and I am  _stunning_.” Kali also laughs at her own jokes, and does so now as she catches her own reflection in the mirror facing them and smiles. “Really though, kitten, you’ve got four minutes and five acts until you have to go out there and wow the masses, and you look like you left your lighter fluid at home. What’s eating you?”

Derek mimics Kali and looks at his own reflection again, departing from her example when he frowns at what he sees. “Deucalion thinks I need a  _pop_ ,” he replies. She raises and eyebrow and hops up to sit on the makeup table in front of him.

"And what did Peter have to say about this?" She’s looking at him like she already has an idea, and Derek would be worried if he didn’t have to stop and roll his eyes at the mention of his uncle.

"Nothing. He saw my face when Deucalion suggested it and walked away so he wouldn’t be caught laughing." Kali hums in sympathy, an emotion that is short-lived if the way she takes his chin in her hand and turns it to catch the light is any indication. "I take it you have an idea?" he drawls with as much ire as possible.

"I do indeed."

"And?"

Speaking objectively (that is, as someone who hasn’t seen her walk barefoot across broken glass and literally throw drunk, handsy bikers through plate-glass windows) Kali is beautiful. Those drawn in by that though, tend to find her bloodthirsty smiles unsettling. As her lips curl, Derek can understand why.

"Eyeliner," she says definitively. Derek opens his mouth to argue but Kali lifts her eyebrow again and he clamps it shut immediately. If he had an hour and some privacy he’d argue; for now, he’ll just sit back and let her use his face as a canvas. It’s more of an idea than he has after all. And besides, if it’s not the kind of pop Deucalion is looking for, he can blame it on Kali and go on with his day.

Derek shrugs and settles back in the chair as much as he can with his chin still firmly in her grasp. “Go nuts,” is all he says before closing his eyes.

Kali hums again, this time like a cat whose prey has just settled into her trap. One sense down, the sound reverberates through Derek, striking him in his chest and warming down into his belly. He shifts and he swears he can almost  _hear_ Kali frown.

"No moving," she snaps. He gives her the finger, then obediently falls still. Once she’s convinced that he will stay where she’s put him, Kali releases him and there is noise directly in front of Derek as she rummages through his sparse stage makeup bag and sighs. He opens one eye in little more than a slit just in time to see her reach over to the table beside them. Erica always had spare eyeliner, and Kali’s quiet triumphant exclamation is proof of that.

She sits up straight again and Derek feels the breeze as she swings one leg over his head. Her feet settle on the outsides of his thighs as gentle fingers touch his chin again. Kali is blocking the lights around Boyd's mirror, he knows, but the lamp clipped to the edge of Erica’s mirror is the best way to apply anything with any kind of finesse and Derek turns his face to meet the familiar warmth easily.

"Very good," she murmurs. Derek hears the click of the cap and relaxes into Kali’s hand, letting her hold him still as the tip of the pen touches the corner of his eyelid. The drag of it is smoother than he expected and he finds himself falling into the quiet rhythm of it, forgetting everything that isn’t Kali’s strong, sure hands and the quick pulls of the pen.

"Erica told me you always start on the outside." It tumbles from his mouth before he thinks about it, and for a moment he wonders if it’s hanging in the air between them the way a lit fuse hangs above a stick of dynamite.

"I would’ve if I planned on giving you wings." Kali’s breath rushes across his face as she answers him. It’s warm and it registers in the back of his mind that she’d lied when she told him she hadn’t stolen two of the four oranges he’d brought to work with him today; he can smell them on her breath now. "But I just want to line your eyes, make them  _pop_  as it were,” she continues. “So I’m working from the inside out.”

"Oh." In all honesty the method doesn’t matter to him; another time he’d pick on her maybe, point out that this is the one hundred and seventh way that she and Erica are different but the energy that had sizzled in the air only moments ago is gone and Derek is too focused on the scent of stolen oranges and keeping his breaths steady to start another fight with Kali. "Are you always this gentle?" he asks instead.

Her laugh is little more than an amused huff and he can’t resist the urge to curl his lips into a smile too. “Well I don’t want wrinkles to set in too early now do I?” She tips his head a bit as she reaches the outer corner of his eye before giving him a real answer. “With myself, no, I’m not always this slow. But it’s your first time; if I go at the pace I usually set for myself, you’ll start blinking like a lunatic and ruin my pretty lines.”

Derek’s smile widens, the extent of his acknowledgement of her comment. He feels Kali’s hand lift from where it’d been resting on his cheek and realizes that his smile was crinkling the edges of his eyes, right where she was working. He didn’t rush in letting it fade; he had plenty of time before his act and so did she. There was no reason to hurry.

Once his face smoothed out Kali resumed her work, etching a second line over the first and moving quicker with this one. Her thumb dropped to pull his bottom lid into a workable shape without warning, and Derek stilled even further. His cheeks began to tingle under the heat of Erica’s lamp and if the tickle of hair against his nose was to be believed, Kali had moved even closer to apply this coat.

She released the lid as quietly as she had pulled it and sat back with an amused “You can breathe now.” Derek let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding and cracked the unlined eye again.

"How do I look?"

"No peeking," she says in lieu of a reply. It’s all well and good. All he can see anyway is her silhouette and even that is mostly a blur dominated by her costume’s bright swath of red. He shrugs and closes the eye completely, this time prepared for the descent of the black tipped tool.

To get this eye Kali has to move closer, as her shoulder is blocking more light this time. Immersed in the now almost hypnotic feeling of the swipe along his lid, Derek has no idea of how close Kali is until he licks his lips and catches the end of that stray piece of hair. A soft exhale pushes the hair back to where it thinks it belongs, but Derek is too distracted to care. His focus zooms in on the curl of Kali’s body over his own, the press of her bare feet against his thighs, and the vulnerable position she’s put him in. The last time Derek had looked up at Kali like this, she was promising him that she would kick the apple and certainly not his head. Unsurprisingly, he’d felt far safer then than he does now.

Kali moves to his lower lid quicker than she had the first time and sighs (almost good-naturedly) when the surprise makes Derek jerk. “Hold still,” she mutters, but she’s already resumed her work and the reprimand is mostly useless. Derek’s hands have rested on his legs since Kali sat on the table and stole their space; now his right hand twitches and brushes her leg. The contact draws no response from her, so Derek relaxes, lets his hand fall and be caught by the her leg and pays more attention to the brush of his knuckles against her calf than the uncomfortable tugging that’s going into making him presentable.

As she puts the finishing touches on him he distantly wishes he had a third eye for her to work on. He’s reluctant to give up all these points of contact.

It begins slowly, with Kali leaning back and taking the guiding press of her hand, the eyeliner, and the light smell of oranges with her. Derek’s head turns to follow her shadow and Kali says “Don’t open” before he can do more than that.

She blows gently on his lids and it tickles. He turns to escape the treatment and is rewarded with the return of her hand beneath his chin. He holds still then, and lets her blow to her heart’s content. When she drops her hand again Derek speaks before moving.

"Can I open my eyes now?" His voice is low, like he’d gone without using it for five years instead of five minutes and he’s so focused on the light grip Kali’s legs still have on his that he almost misses her affirmative answer.

He doesn’t move away from her to find his reflection; instead he scoots to the edge of his chair, into the V of her legs and leans into the press of her thigh to look around her as she shifts to return the eyeliner to its home on Erica’s table. Derek has to admit, he looks good. The stark black line is dramatic, but doesn’t take away from his eyes themselves. He hates to even think it, but he owes Kali big for this one.

"What do you think?" Kali asks. When Derek pulls back she’s looking down at him again, unconcerned with the places where they’re still connected and focused solely on trying to read Derek’s reaction to his mini-makeover. He shrugs again and looks up at her.

"This is for the audience, not for me," he replies. "What do  _you_  think?”

Kali smiles slowly and Derek is struck with images of oranges drizzled in honey and soft, full lips descending on his. It’s an odd combination and he wraps the fingers nudging her leg around her ankle to pull himself from his head. If her knowing gaze is anything to go by, he has not covered his tracks well.

She cups his face again and catches his bottom lip with her thumb. “Lips too, next time,” she suggests easily. He returns her smile as best as he can, and when Kali tilts her head the full weight of her undivided attention sends a shiver down his spine.

By the time he’s called to stage, his confidence has very little to do with his impeccably-practiced routine and very much to do with the memory of the weight of Kali’s hand against his chin and the thought of that same pressure against the back of his neck.

(As it turns out, lip gloss and fire-eating don’t quite work. But the sticky smears the substance leaves as Derek marks Kali’s skin is far too delicious to give up completely.)


End file.
